{"author":"Samuel Beckett","author_id":"Samuel+Beckett","total_quotes":132,"quotes":[{"text":"Words are all we have.","author":"Samuel Beckett","tags":["words "],"id":4292,"author_id":"Samuel+Beckett"},{"text":"To have been always what I am - and so changed from what I was.","author":"Samuel Beckett","tags":["change","self"],"id":13145,"author_id":"Samuel+Beckett"},{"text":"Bloom of adulthood. Try a whiff of that. On your back in the dark you remember. Ah you remember. Cloudless May day. She joins you in the little summerhouse. Entirely of logs. Both larch and fir. Six feet across. Eight from floor to vertex. Area twenty-four square feet to the furthest decimal. Two small multicoloured lights vis-a-vis. Small stained diamond panes. Under each a ledge. There on summer Sundays after his midday meal your father loved to retreat with Punch and a cushion. The waist of his trousers unbuttoned he sat on the one ledge and turned the pages. You on the other your feet dangling. When he chuckled you tried to chuckle too. When his chuckle died yours too. That you should try to imitate his chuckle pleased and amused him greatly and sometimes he would chuckle for no other reason than to hear you try to chuckle too. Sometimes you turn your head and look out through a rose-red pane. You press your little nose against the pane and all without is rosy. The years have flown and there at the same place as then you sit in the bloom of adulthood bathed in rainbow light gazing before you. She is late.","author":"Samuel Beckett","tags":["adulthood","childhood","relentlessness"],"id":18107,"author_id":"Samuel+Beckett"},{"text":"The earth makes a sound as of sighs and the last drops fall from the emptied cloudless sky. A small boy, stretching out his hands and looking up at the blue sky, asked his mother how such a thing was possible. Fuck off, she said.","author":"Samuel Beckett","tags":["beckett","fuck","irish","off","samuel","writer"],"id":19085,"author_id":"Samuel+Beckett"},{"text":"In order to be company he must display a certain mental activity. But it need not be of a high order. Indeed it might be argued the lower the better. Up to a point. The lower the order of mental activity the better the company. Up to a point.","author":"Samuel Beckett","tags":["company","conversation","mental-activity","partner"],"id":26976,"author_id":"Samuel+Beckett"},{"text":"Estragon: You see, you feel worse when I'm with you. I feel better alone, too.Vladmir: Then why do you always come crawling back?Estragon: I don't know.","author":"Samuel Beckett","tags":["drama","literature","play"],"id":31560,"author_id":"Samuel+Beckett"},{"text":"All I know is what the words know, and dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning and a middle and an end, as in the well-built phrase and the long sonata of the dead.","author":"Samuel Beckett","tags":["beckett","dead","irish","samuel","words","writer"],"id":40997,"author_id":"Samuel+Beckett"},{"text":"Light heat all known all white heart breath no sound.","author":"Samuel Beckett","tags":["heart","light","ping"],"id":41962,"author_id":"Samuel+Beckett"},{"text":"Estragon: I remember the maps of the Holy Land. Coloured they were. Very pretty. The Dead Sea was pale blue. The very look of it made me thirsty. That's where we'll go, I used to say, that's where we'll go for our honeymoon. We'll swim. We'll be happy.","author":"Samuel Beckett","tags":["estragon","loneliness","love","samuel-beckett","waiting-for-godot"],"id":45864,"author_id":"Samuel+Beckett"},{"text":"I always thought old age would be a writer’s best chance. Whenever I read the late work of Goethe or W. B. Yeats I had the impertinence to identify with it. Now, my memory’s gone, all the old fluency’s disappeared. I don’t write a single sentence without saying to myself, ‘It’s a lie!’ So I know I was right. It’s the best chance I’ve ever had.","author":"Samuel Beckett","tags":["hope","philosophy","writer"],"id":50467,"author_id":"Samuel+Beckett"}],"pagination":{"page":1,"page_size":10,"total":132,"pages":14,"next":"?page=2\u0026page_size=10"}}